


A Study in Spirit

by lunarlychallenged



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Spirit Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 16:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15644985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarlychallenged/pseuds/lunarlychallenged
Summary: School spirit was for the shallow.  Michael thought so, at least.





	A Study in Spirit

Monday - Pajama Day

 

Only the truly shallow have school spirit, but you participated in Spirit Week in the hopes that your homeroom would win a pizza party.

“You aren’t really going to do it all, right?” Michael grinned at you, as though he was waiting for you to admit you had been punking him.

“I like winning,” you mumbled into a pudding cup. “And I like pizza.”

“And it’s fun to participate,” Christine added. She grinned at the thought of it all; you had to stifle a groan when she started telling your table about what she was planning for each day. You had heard it all often enough.

“I don’t care about participating,” you mock whispered to Michael. “I’m in it for the pizza.”

“I’ll buy you a pizza,” he said. “Don’t give in.”

You gestured to your pajama bottoms. “Too late. I’ve already begun.”

He groaned. “You were supposed to be cool, Y/N. I had faith in you.”

His words ignited delight low in your stomach, but you shrugged to cover it. He needn’t know. “Sorry to disappoint. This is why you shouldn’t trust people.”

“I’m trustworthy,” Jeremy said. He wore a light grin when Christine beamed at him.

“You almost traded everybody in the school for a cool reputation,” you pointed out.

“Too soon.”

“It was a year ago!” You gaped at him, a smile curling at the edge of your lips, and Michael laughed.

“It’ll always be too soon,” he said.

You snorted. “Fine. I take it back. Jeremy, who is wearing footies Christine gave him, is more trustworthy than anybody.”

“I like them,” Christine said cheerily.

“Of course you do,” Michael said. “You’ve already gotten sucked into this school. I thought Y/N knew about the Matrix. I thought they knew about the Fight Club.”

“It’s not like I could talk about it, even if I did know,” you pointed out. “I think that you’re just jealous - you’re wearing jeans.”

He busied himself scraping the dregs of his Slurpee with his spoon-straw. You grinned at him, but he didn’t argue anymore.

 

 

Tuesday - Twin Day

 

“It’s not funny,” Michael griped.

“I think it’s hilarious,” you said. You hadn’t been able to find his exact hoodie, but the one you found was close enough to be recognizable. Christine had hooked you up with a wig, and you wore a pair of fake glasses you bought at Goodwill. “You shouldn’t talk to your twin that way. What would mom say?”

“Probably that she isn’t your real mom.”

You put a hurt hand against your chest, aghast. “I cannot believe that my mom would say that about me - her child, Mica Mell.”

“Y/N,” he said with mock sadness. “The thing is, you were adopted.”

“No.” You grinned at him, and you saw him fight back his own smile. “But we look exactly alike. Your moms certainly love me like one of their children.”

Jeremy, who had been going through French flashcards, smirked. “They aren’t picturing you as Michael’s sibling.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Michael punched Jeremy’s arm. “Shut up.” To you, he wrinkled his nose. “Jeremy doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Technology fried his brain.”

You narrowed your eyes, but let it go. “But not yours?”

“He merely adopted the tech. I was born in it -”

“Molded by it,” you finished. “Fine. Jeremy is weak. You are strong.”

“Straight up.” He grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the table, away from Jeremy, who had eyes bright with mirth. “C’mon, Mica, let’s go to class.”

 

 

Wednesday - Superhero Day

 

“Stan Lee steals people’s ideas! If Marvel was as good as DC, he wouldn’t have to.” Michael was whisper shouting at you in the fiction section of the library. It might have been crowded, had it not been study hall.

“Marvel movies are better! Wonder Woman was great, sure, but Green Lantern? Gag me. Batman vs Superman? What a snore.”

Michael sighed. “You can’t base a franchise on one portion! It’s about the comics, and the video games. Not just the movies.”

You puffed out your chest, proudly displaying the Captain America shield. “Marvel is better.”

“You’re wrong,” he hissed back.

“Oh, Michael,” you crooned. You booped the tip of his nose - he always wiggled it when you did that, like a rabbit. “So handsome, and so ill-informed.”

He inhaled sharply, putting one hand on each of your cheeks. Looking you straight in the eye, he gave a humorless smile. “Y/N, you can insult me all you want. Don’t insult my comics.”

You wanted to respond. You wanted to say something funny and biting, or something that would turn his dark eyes to goo and make his smile a little goofy. You wanted to say something, but you short circuited when his rough fingertips grazed your cheekbones.

Your felt your knees go a little weak at the same time that Michael’s eyes widened. Instead of letting go, he inched a little closer. His hands softened, cradling your face instead of holding it.

You gulped. “I don’t think - I don’t think I have much to insult you for.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. His eyes darted down to your lips, once, twice, and he let go. He cleared his throat, plastering on a broad grin. “Yeah. It you like me that much, don’t insult DC.” 

“Right,” you said. Your mouth hadn’t been this dry in your entire life. “No, wait - I mean, DC makes terrible movies. They can’t be better than Marvel.” 

He sighed a laugh, the tension leaving his shoulders. “You have never been so wrong in your entire life -”

The bickering washed out the tension, but your heart hammered for hours.

 

Thursday - Spotlight Day

 

“This is a stupid day,” you told Christine. “This is the actual worst theme.”

The clothing for Spotlight Day was driven by relationship status. Green for single, yellow for ‘it’s complicated’, and red for taken. Ridiculous.

“You only hate it because you’re single,” she said. The words weren’t tainted by malice; she said the words as surely as she would have said a line in one of her shows. She was decked from head to toe in red, and you had seen Jeremy in a red shirt earlier on. 

Maybe she was right; maybe it was a day that was more fun when you could look across the room and see the person that allowed you to dress in red. 

You thought of Michael, and the way he had held your face the day before, and fingered the edge of your green shirt. Yeah, maybe you were a little bitter.

“That doesn’t make it less stupid,” you mumbled. “It’s a dumb idea.”

When you got to English, you nudged Michael’s foot with yours on the way by. He pulled off his headphones and grinned at you.

“Y/N. Still selling out, I see.”

“Mmm. You’re wearing red, Mell. Who’s the unlucky sucker?” You shot his signature hoodie a meaningful look.

He shrugged. “Mrs. Pacman.”

“Kinky.”

“It’s the bow,” he sighed. “You’ve seen the logo for that game. She’s practically taunting me.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Gross.”

“It’s no weirder than you having a crush on the fox Robin Hood.”

“He’s the sexiest thing anybody has ever seen, and you can’t fight me on it,” you said firmly. “Disney went too hard. We didn’t deserve that Robin Hood.”

“Sure thing,” Michael said. He grinned at you, full and happy. “Let me have my life with Mrs. Pacman.”

You dipped your head in agreement when the teacher called the class to attention.

Halfway through the hour, you glanced over at Michael. It was more instinct that anything else - you could feel Michael in a room before seeing him enter. You could sense his mood before seeing his face or hearing his voice. You knew him, and looking to him was as out of your control as the phases of the moon.

His pant leg had ridden up his calf, letting you see a healthy stretch of sock. A sock that was inarguably, unmistakably yellow.

It’s complicated.

 

 

Friday - Spirit Day

 

Spirit Day had always been and would always be the most boring day. Wearing school colors? Whatever. You did it, of course, but you weren’t happy about it.

“It’s almost over,” Michael said. He had his arms crossed on his desk to rest his head on. “Soon, you’ll be back to normal. You’ll hate the school with me.”

“I dunno,” you said slowly. “Maybe I’ll keep this up. Maybe I’ll go to the game tonight, and the dance tomorrow. Maybe I’ll join the cheer squad.”

“I would rather die.”

“Good thing I’m not dragging you along.”

“I would kill you, then myself. I’ll rescue you from yourself,” he yawned. He blinked at you, eyes large and weary behind his glasses. He had texted you the night before, long after midnight, to keep you updated about the God of War game he had been really into lately.

You smiled, allowing yourself to reach over and run your hand through his hair. He froze for a second, but didn’t stop you. “That still doesn’t explain why you would have to kill yourself. I’m the only one who needs rescuing.”

“I need rescuing,” he said. “What kind of life is it if you aren’t here?”

“One where your friends don’t do Spirit Week. And where your friends prefer DC comics.”

He sat up, brow furrowed. “That sounds like the worst life.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“No, really. I like that you’re like that.”

“Hmm.”

“Y/N,” he groaned. “We both know that I don’t need to spell it out.”

Your smile came out crooked and uncertain. “I dunno. It’s complicated, right? I might need you to break it down.”

“I like that you’re like that,” he sighed again. “I like you.”

“Are we talking a red light, here?”

“Like, my moms want you to be their kid in a decidedly non-twin way.” He smiled then, with only a trace of fear. Not because he didn’t believe you felt the same way, but because it had been complicated.

“I guess I won’t join cheer,” you said. “Just to keep us both alive, you know.”

He laughed. “Thanks.”

You paused, licking your lips. “You know, my class lost the Spirit Week competition. I really did want that pizza.”

“I’ll buy you a pizza,” he said immediately. “If you want.”

“I want.”

“Great.” He shot a cheery, rueful look at his sweatshirt. “Man, I was a little late for Spotlight Day. Mrs. Pacman will have to back up.”

You grinned. “I could wear a bow.”

When he cradled your face in his hands this time, there was no hesitation on his face. “Some other time, maybe.” He kissed you this time, and there was nothing complicated about that.


End file.
